The Wildest Mikaelson...
The Happy Homicidal Maniac...
The Willy Fox...
The Worst of the Worst...
All names used to describe the youngest Mikaelson brother. Throughout his long life, Kol fancied himself the black sheep of the family, believing that...
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Eilean Donan Castle in the Highlands, Scotland, 18 September 2010
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I made the awful mistake of befriending the most annoying little witch ever, and now I'm paying the prize," a familiar British accent came through the phone.
Anastasia rolled her eyes at his attitude. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Nastya," Niklaus scolded her through the phone.
"I would never," Anastasia faked offence, stepping out of the castle to get better reception. It was raining a little, like it almost always did in the Highlands, but she loved it. "Now to what do I owe the pleasure of your call when you've been ignoring me for the past three days."
She jumped up on one of the stone walls and balanced on it while she waited for his response. "I sincerely apologise, love," Niklaus told her and she could practically hear the smirk on his face, "but I have good news. My father is dead."
His words shocked her so much that Anastasia slipped on the wall and released a small shriek as she fell down into the high grass below. Fortunately she didn't drop her phone, "He's what?"
"What happened?" Niklaus demanded, having only heard her scream at the other end.
"I just tripped," Anastasia assured him. "No one is attacking me, so you don't have to plan anyone's murder today." The grass had softened her fall so much that she didn't actually injure herself. But her white knitted sweater was now stained green and the right side of her pant leg was wet. "Did you say your father is dead? How?"
"I killed him," Niklaus said casually. "The doppelgänger and her little friends had the brilliant plan to lure my father here so he could kill me. I will spare you of the bloody details, but he is now rotting in hell for all eternity."
"Uh, congratulations?" Anastasia offered. In any normal situation she would have offered her condolences but considering Niklaus's relationship with his father, this was a blessing rather than a tragedy. "What kind of flowers are appropriate to send someone that has just lost their psychotic and murderous father?"
"Well, the Lotus corniculatus symbolises revenge, so I believe that would be appropriate, love," Niklaus told her.
Anastasia hummed in agreement, "Yes. I definitely know what kind of flower that is - Anyways," she changed the subject, "how are you feeling?"
"I feel better than ever," Niklaus stated in jovial tone. "My curse is broken, I have an army of hybrids at my disposal and my father is finally dead. There is only one thing that can brighten my existence even more!"
"Stealing the Imperial Crown of Russia from the Kremlin Armoury's State Diamond Fund in Moscow?" Anastasia suggested.
"No," Niklaus said. "You need to let that crown go - because I'm not going to steal it for you."
